The Last Supper.

Yes, life is meaningless, but some of the food is decent.

That’s Ricky, trying to scarf my two double-doubles, well-done fries and milkshake Saturday.

And yesterday, I spent the afternoon at Venice Ale House, watching these two fellas order like a boss: the skateboard beer flight.

Thus begins May, in which a group of friends and I have decided to give up sugar for the month. (The milkshake was my one last bump before rehab.) We’re charting our progress, and opting for varying degrees of abstention – I’m giving up blatantly sugary things, but will still eat fruit every day. My nightly sugar jones will not be appeased. May God have mercy on my soul.